


The Philosophy of Time Travel

by Peeta



Category: Donnie Darko (2001), Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Clato - Freeform, F/M, Gen, Hayffie, Odesta, everlark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-13 10:38:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3378422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peeta/pseuds/Peeta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an Artifact appears in the midst of District 12, Peeta finds himself trapped in a world where he is being manipulated by forces above and beyond his understanding. Wherever they take him is leading up to the countdown of the end of the world. [Rated for future chapters]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> While this is a Hunger Games/Donnie Darko crossover, the plot mainly rests within the Hunger Games universe, with characters twisted around as needed. As you might imagine, this story is a little off its rocker. So far I've planned it out to be several chapters, but I'm not entirely sure of the middle yet. We'll see how it goes, with input from you guys!
> 
> Two character notes:   
> 
> 
> * Primrose is Peeta's younger sister in this for plot purposes.   
> 
> * Cray and Snow's vile traits are combined into one character; you'll see why later. ;]

Have you ever thought about how the world would end?  
  
It began on a relatively normal night: the air was rent with the chatter of nocturnal insects, familiar scents of cooling breads and pastries downstairs, and the sound of shifting in the old brick and wood building that had stood for generations.  
  
At three in the morning, everything changed for the Mellarks.  
  
With a high-pitched mechanical whine, like the sound of train wheels screeching to a sudden halt, a bright, burning light exploded in the air above District 12.  
  
The sound was absolutely terrifying; hollow yet full of evil promise, smoke wafting from the air to suffocate the sounds of the night and turn the Merchant area into a nightmarish holocaust of ash and metallic fragments, the heart of which crash-landed smack dab in the middle of Peeta Mellark’s bedroom. If he’d been there, he could be dead right now, his cries for help muffled by the smouldering black smoke that would have burnt through his insides and killed him in less than a minute.  
  
Rye Mellark crashed back against the door he’d just closed, his hands gripping his ears as his heart tried to drum right out of his chest. Cavan and Cordelia Mellark jolted awake, their simultaneous shouts and gasps rattling their ribcages. Primrose, usually a heavy sleeper, crawled under her bed to evade the monster threatening to engulf her home, only to be coaxed out by Cordelia’s tear-streaked pleas towards her daughter.

They couldn't know it now, but Peeta was fortunately somewhere distant, safe from the devastation as though led away by the Fates themselves.

A ray of bright light forces him to scrunch up his face, the irritation only getting brighter as it tickles his nose and prompts a sneeze.

"Ughhh," his raspy voice moans after he shivers from the aftermath of the sneeze, his heartbeat returning to a normal pace as he sits up. It's then that he notices his location.

"Wha...?" The meadow that greets him is vast and bright green, like a scene from a storybook or his vivid imagination. There was no way colours like these _actually_ existed.

Running both hands through the grass beside him, Peeta shuts his eyes on an exhaled sigh, soft like the sunlight that, only moments before, hammered through his unconsciousness.

A faint whiff of something unnatural reaches him.

Swivelling his head towards the smell like a bloodhound catching a scent, his crystalline blue eyes widen at the plumes of smoke rising farther into town. He doesn't think, he just stands and runs as fast as he can.

What feels like forever in slow motion is actually only a few minutes, his bare feet pounding heavily along dusty roads like a bat racing out of hell.

People are crowded around in groups, some sobbing, others staring desolately at the destruction. Children are eerily silent in the wake of what must have been a small catastrophe. Bits of buildings are knocked off, but mostly intact. It's the sight of his family's bakery that has his breath catching and his throat closing up. Frantic eyes scan the scene as he pushes forward, shouting apologies to those he knocks aside in his haste.

"Dad! Mom! Where's —" he asks, pausing and squeezing his eyes shut tight when Rye and Prim come into view. A firm hand holds him steady before he can sway and topple over.

"Oh god, what happened?" Peeta's voice cracks, his whisper reaching Cavan's ears.

"They think it was a part of a hovercraft that malfunctioned. No one knows just yet, but Cray's men are talking to the Cartwrights right now. They have spare rooms."

He nods without really hearing the whole thing. All that matters is they're all alive. Peeta doesn't cringe when no one else from his family looks his way, too busy staring at the wreckage that was once their livelihood and home.

Despite the news having reached the Capitol, President Snow doesn't cancel or postpone his tours. As usual, District 12 is the last stop, but he announces over the Capitol Network that he'll stay longer to help oversee the reconstruction of parts of the Merchant district.

As though that would put the people at **ease**.

Peacekeepers in their crisp white uniforms line the Justice Building's walls and entryways, providing a unified escort and bodyguard detail for the President of Panem. When the man himself emerges from the stone building, it's to absolute silence. He smiles and raises his hands as though to settle the crowd all the same.

"Citizens of District 12, I have come not only to continue my annual tradition, but also to offer my regrets for the events of several days ago. It is with a smile on my face that I can announce no casualties aside from structural damage."

His expression is so fake you could melt it with a torch, but he keeps going to a mute audience.

"My tour ends here, in one of the most valuable districts of Panem. My Peacekeepers present today serve as a reminder that the bountiful Capitol is benevolent and more secure than ever. They aid me in spreading the continued message of a unified Panem. With my guidance, District 12 will leave its worries behind and move forward to a better future: towards that of the Capitol's total sense of security for its children. We will never forget the Dark Days, nor will we wallow in fear of accidents like these destroying any part of us. We will remain strong!"

Snow keeps talking, the light glinting off of his innocently white hair and perfect rows of teeth. Peeta feels his jaw and fists clench at the mention of the Hunger Games, which are scheduled to go on proceeding the Reaping once repairs are complete. Two more years and he'll be free.

Shutting his eyes and blocking his ears from catching another word, his thoughts drift to Primrose and her hopes for the future. To Rye, who's going to turn 19 before the Reaping and whose future will be bright and fruitful. To his parents, who, regardless of their naïve approach towards his "gifts", do love him and show it the best way they know how.

Peeta inhales through his nose and slowly opens his eyes, only to meet mercurial grey across a hundred feet — they swiftly break contact with him as though frightened of being caught looking.

He smiles, thinking that things will be fine. Snow might be here, but he's going to stay at his childhood friend's house and he still has his whole family.


	2. Chapter 2

A few days pass with little activity. Snow's settled into his home outside of Victor's Village — the same pristine white monstrosity he inhabits every year, looking as garish as ever. He gets three luxurious meals a day and every amenity he could ever want; outside in the real world, kids in the Seam are starving.

All the more reason for Peeta to dislike him. And to think, his parents once suggested that he would be _good_ for Panem.

Meanwhile, living with Delly and her family isn't all it's cracked up to be, though he has a roof over his head and relative privacy —

"Fuckface, get your ass down here or you'll miss school!"

— except when Rye's yelling through his temporary door like a mutt bent on harassing the shit out of him.

Muttering to himself, Peeta gets his things together and dresses extra slowly, just tugging on his school shirt before brushing past Rye, purposely bumping into his shoulder as he heads out the door. Whatever else happens in his family, he and Rye will always ram heads. They love each other — just barely — though, so he can't complain. Delly's an only child and he's heard her pine for a sibling enough times to realise he's sort of lucky.

This morning, they're walking side-by-side, her animated voice chattering away in his ear.

"Can you _believe_ her? I told her she'd better not do anything stupid or Thom would dump her so fast."

Soon enough, the face of their school building comes into view, a stream of students of varying ages littering the surrounding lots. The closer they get, the more people he recognises, Thresh and Marvel already leaning up against the dumpsters with cigarettes trickling smoke into the air.

"Hey Delly, why don't you save your energy for lunch, when you bowl everyone else over to get in front of line," Marvel quips with a grin, a thin stream of grey smoke pouring out the side of his mouth. Thresh quietly smirks while shaking his head.

Beside him, Delly's mouth is caught in an 'o' of surprise moments before her eyebrows scrunch up and she shouts: "Shut up, jerk!" She turns away in disgust, the edges of her eyes crinkling in embarrassment.

Peeta merely sighs and shoves Marvel's shoulder.

"Knock it off dumbass. Come on."

The bell signals start of classes as Peeta's locker shuts and he waves to a still sullen Delly.

"If you pay careful attention to the events of this book, you'll notice how the Capitol is trying to send a message by assigning it," the English teacher, Annie Cresta, says in a wispy voice. "The ironic destruction of the money is reminiscent of the Capitol's continuing use of the Hunger Games every year — as a message that no matter the attempted destruction occurring during the Dark Days, it retained its glory and power, and moved onwards."

More than half of the class have been silent during her lecture, while Peeta finds himself huffing as his arms crossed, his back making firm contact with his chair. Everyone knows what a joke these books are; their only purpose was to be torn apart and retold in a way that suits the Capitol's grand agenda. Anything they can do to firmly hold onto their power, they would capitalise on.

"When you look at page 10 —" Annie stops short, eyes going to the back of the class, where the door shutting sounds louder thanks to the sudden hush in the room.

"Sorry," she says, but he could tell that Katniss never means to apologise to **anyone**. "I just got moved to this class because I got bored in my other one." The smirk on her face is evidence enough of the trouble that follows in her wake. "Where should I sit?"

Smiling a little too brightly, Annie stands from her position at the desk and lets her gossamer fingers wave through the air in a nonchalant gesture. "Sit next to whichever boy you think is the cutest."

A few chuckles and muffled laughs reverberate through the room, but Katniss Everdeen is never one to be deterred. Her sharp, grey gaze roves over the room's occupants, stopping firmly beside Peeta's desk as he feels himself take a sharp breath and stiffen his shoulders.

"Bonnie, get up," Annie says, surprisingly firmly, the laughter crinkling in the corner of her eyes.

Without another word on the matter, class continues on as before, only Katniss' presence burning itself into his consciousness as the rest of lecture flies past his head.

That night, Peeta finds sleep a lot less easily than before. He'd been doing all right at the Cartwrights'; his sleep pattern hardly interrupted by strange images or nightmarish scenarios branding themselves behind his eyelids during his waking hours.

But tonight, he can't seem to shake the image of the giant rabbit taunting him. Its voice is grating, high-pitched, a little mechanical, like some Capitolistic contraption sent to haunt him. The carved face gleams menacingly in the shallow light of his dream landscape, reminding him of the gargoyles he'd learned about in history.

"Why are you doing this?" comes his quiet whisper, fair eyebrows bunched together in agitation.

The rabbit, who says to call it 'President', seems to grin beneath the mask. "I have seen your future. Make them _pay_." The axe appears out of nowhere, held out in the rabbit's claw-like grasp, and that's what jolts Peeta awake.

Blinking back the images, he shakes his head as though he can shake off the eerie feeling still clinging to his pores.

The bathroom light flicks on and illuminates the matted mess of blond atop his head, his unseeing eyes reflected back at him from the mirror. Just as he's about to reach for the pills on the small ledge below the mirror, something stays his hand and instead, he turns away, a man possessed, caught in a strange sleepwalking state whilst fully awake.

It doesn't take long to reach his destination, the smooth wooden handle weighing his hand down heavily. His steady _whacks_ and _thunks_ reverberate through his arms, numbing his hands so that he can't immediately feel the water splashing at his fingers. A strange sort of half-smile tips the side of his lips, the hollowness of his eyes sharpening a few times before he falls back into the trance that has him keeping one foot in front of the other.

In his wake, the stench of water hitting mud reminds him that this is all too real.

"This is such bullshit," Marvel utters around his cigarette, relighting it for the second time. "Seriously, who gives a fuck about the history of this stupid country, anyway? Everyone knows it's just building up to the Capitol's tightened asshole refusing to let the stick fall out."

Peeta snorts a laugh at the vivid description, sharing a grin with Thresh as they bump shoulders. They're actually out and about early for once, their meeting planned before school so they could hang out in the meadow's secluded outcropping they'd claimed back when they hit puberty.

"You know what's real bullshit?" Peeta says before dropping the T-Bolt to his side. "Anyone thinking we actually give a fuck about the Hunger Games. They praise it as some big privilege when really, we're all going in there to die because the Careers are always favoured above all." He turns back to the old tins and shoots each one out, hitting dead centre every time.

Thresh gives Marvel a sideways glance, knowing that as soon as he gets started up on the Hunger Games, all bets are off.

"No, young padawan, the Games aren't bullshit," Marvel starts, holding his bottle out while cheap, pilfered beer sloshes out the rim, " _school_ is bullshit. When Reaping day comes, I'm gonna fucking **volunteer**. Anything to get out of Cresta's lectures on lit that no one cares about. And besides that, it'll bring honour and all that crap to my family."

Another few shots and Peeta drops the rifle. He grabs an open bottle of lukewarm beer from the rickety table and falls into the worn couch beside Thresh, clinking bottles before guzzling the contents halfway through.

"Do whatever you want," he returns, a satisfying belch turning the atmosphere a little less tense as he high-fives Thresh. "Meanwhile, I'm gonna focus on being a healthy 16-year-old who plans to get my dick wet before the school year's up."

The three boys continue to talk about inane things, laughter interspersing with unsavoury sounds and gestures as topics degenerate into debates about whose dick is the longest.

"Fuck, we're gonna be late." Marvel elbows Thresh in the side on the way out of the meadow, finally heading to school and leaving the easy conversation behind.

It's not longer after that they're accosted by an out-of-breath Primrose and Posy Hawthorne, giggling as they reach the boys.

"Mama said school's cancelled!" Posy chirps happily. Peeta raises a brow and looks at Primrose for confirmation.

"It's true! The Justice Building was completely flooded and vandalised last night, so our teachers are volunteering to help clean it up!"

Thresh and Marvel jostle one another as they laugh over the news.

"Well fuck me!" Marvel whistles, pulling out a cigarette. "You hear that, fatass!" he shouts to Delly, who's coming down the path leading from her house. She shoots him a glare and shouts "SHUT UP!" right back.

"Get home then," Peeta orders Prim, her lips already pursed and priming to shoot back at him. "And if you tell about this," he holds the cigarette up, "I'll spit in your cookies."

The two girls say EWWWW together as Prim gives her brother a dirty look, running off with Posy a second later.

"I'm gonna take a walk," he shoots over his shoulder, waving to Marvel as Thresh takes a hit from the blunt they pulled out. He doesn't give Delly a second glance before idly making his way down another path.

Minutes slowly tick by, his mind wrapping around the events of his nightmare last night. After what Prim and Posy had said, he wonders what happens to him between sleep and waking, something he's always had trouble remembering. Sleepwalking wasn't anything new; he'd done it since he started school ten years ago, but he usually didn't end up back in his own bed tucked neatly beneath the covers after an episode. He couldn't count the number of times his brother or father found him dozing off on the bakery's counter or in the wine cellar some mornings.

He's so caught up in his thoughts that he almost passes Katniss as she's glaring daggers at Clove and Cato, two of the Victors patrolling the area as watchdogs for Snow's temporary stay.

"Watch yourself, Seam trash," Clove spits, her fingers settling on a wicked looking knife that's barely sheathed at her waist.

Katniss is about to retort when Peeta steps in, his hand shooting out to pull on her arm.

"Hey, school's cancelled," he says casually, looking over his shoulder at the Victors. "I thought _you'd_ be the first to hear. I bet President Snow'll be pissed that you're out here harassing students instead of helping at the Justice Building."

He gives himself a mental pat on the back at the panicked look that crosses their faces, Cato looking at Clove in silent acknowledgement. They turn without another word and bend heads, talking animatedly between themselves on their way to the centre of town.

"What the hell for?" Katniss' voice brings him back to the present.

"Someone trashed the Justice Building," Peeta replies, his hand finally releasing her arm, fingers twitching from the brief contact. "The teachers are helping to clean up. So my sister says, anyway. I'm not sticking around to find out."

Her sudden smile is the only thing keeping him from blurting out an apology for grabbing her arm.

"Good, then I'm gonna go hunt." Katniss hikes her schoolbag higher on her shoulder and turns, making a beeline for the fence outside the Seam. "You coming, baker boy?" she asks, a brow raised in question as though he's an idiot for standing there.

"Um, yeah." Peeta's slight jog catches him up to her and they walk to the fence in silence. Just as Katniss tosses a stick at the fence to see if it's on, Peeta feels himself shifting from foot to foot, anxiety crawling up his spine. He tries to stay quiet as she tugs on the inert wires that look mangled at the bottom. At least for a whole minute before he feels the need to say something.

"Listen, Katniss —"

"Quiet down," she hisses, giving him a dirty look over her shoulder. "You know what we're doing is illegal. What do you want to do, attract attention?"

Properly chastised, he ducks his head and follows her lead under the fence. She's walking fast ahead of him, but her steps don't make a sound. He's thundering behind her despite his attempts to remain as quiet as her.

"Katniss," he tries again when they're a good distance from the fence, "can you stop for a minute?"

She does, barely giving him the time of day as she hefts her bag back up her shoulder.

Another minute passes in silence, his brain suddenly blank.

"Well?" The irritation in her tone is clear.

"I uh," Peeta tries, only to pause and tug at his earlobe. _Get your shit together!_ he chastises himself. "I just wondered what you did to be transferred to my class," he finally blurts, a stain of red colouring his cheeks at his question. _Stupid, stupid!_

Katniss immediately gives him a smile that's far too innocent for her words. "Oh, nothing but threaten to drive an arrow through a boy's goods if he didn't stop hitting on me."

A cough mixes with the startled laugh he lets out. " _Seriously_?" Peeta's grin is met with Katniss' own as they continue walking, her laughter echoing his until she stops and reaches deep into a fallen tree. The bow and quiver look worn, but definitely lethal.

"Stay put while I shoot some things down. Your feet are scaring the game off."

Peeta's about to protest. The threatening look in her sharp eyes is enough to shut his mouth, his nod prompting her to turn and run off towards a small thatch of younger trees. He plops down on the log and drops his bag. The sketchpad is beneath his fingers before he knows it, charcoal tracing the patterns of Katniss' braid as she'd turned away from him.

 _Damnit, Mellark, you've got it bad_ , he thinks happily as he sketches for well over an hour.


End file.
